It's Only Love
by BroadwayStar77
Summary: Fantine and Valjean discover that love can happen to anyone anywhere. AU Story. NOT COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

"It's Only Love"  
  
A/N - Hey everyone. I haven't written a dramatic fic in the longest time and I've been dying to do one. Don't worry. I have the parody fics coming out at lightening speed, but I'd like to do something really "deep" as it were. Now, a word to the weary. I'm going to get extremely upset if I have to keep reminding people, but this is FanFic. Anything can happen, and I'm not asking you to agree with what I write, but I want you to respect it. If you don't like it, don't read it, or give me constructive criticism, but don't flame me screaming about AU and how it isn't right.   
  
THIS WILL BE AN AU FIC THAT SOMEWHAT FOLLOWS THE STORY WITH A VALJEAN/FANTINE PAIRING  
  
I'm giving you fair warning. Don't like it? Fine.  
  
Thanks in advance to Jenna for helping me once again on my 15th fic.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Fantine pulled her child close, fighting back tears. She had to be strong for the two of them. If Cosette became frightened and began to cry, Fantine feared she may never be able to leave the little girl. Her daughter remained calm, unaware of what was happening to her. She kept looking past her mother's shoulder at the two little girls playing in the yard.  
  
"Cosette, listen to me, sweetheart. Mommy has to go somewhere."  
  
"Can't I come to?"  
  
"No, sweetheart," she said with difficulty. "You can't come."  
  
'Why does this have to be so hard?' she screamed inside. 'I shouldn't care what people will think ... but I do. I want my child to stay with me, but I couldn't endure all the taunting, the rumors, and the scandal... Even so, Cosette can't come with me. It would be selfish. She'll be happy here and well cared for. I'll return for her soon enough.'  
  
"Mama, when will you come back?"  
  
"Very soon, I promise."  
  
"You won't forget me?"  
  
"Never, sweetheart." She grabbed the locket around her neck, the locket Cosette's father had given Fantine. "Remember this locket? You used to play with it when you were a baby. I'll never take it off, and it will always remind me of you."  
  
Cosette frowned. "How will I think of you?"  
  
'I won't cry,' Fantine told herself. She looked at the doll Cosette was holding.   
  
"Your doll, of course. I made her for you when you were very small. You'll sleep with her by your side every night and pretend she's me."  
  
"But I will be alone without you!"  
  
"No, never. Eponine and Azelma will play with you, and you'll have so much fun together. Madame and Monsieur will take care of you, and I'll write to you. Everyone will love you, Cosette. You'll never be alone."  
  
Cosette handed the doll to her mother. "Will you say goodbye to her?"  
  
"Yes," she said reaching for the doll. "Goodbye." She hugged the doll with as much love and affection as any child would. She handed it back to her daughter. "I have to go now, Cosette."  
  
Cosette flung herself in her mother's arms, hanging on as if she never would let go. Fantine couldn't help it, and she started to weep. Cosette pulled back and touched her mother's tears.  
  
"Mama, I've never seen you cry before. Please don't be sad."  
  
"I'm not. Everything will be all right."  
  
"Right it will, Mademoiselle. She'll be in capable hands with us." Madame Thenardier came over and took Cosette by the hand. "I don't mean to be so insensitive to your goodbyes, but if you want to make it as far as Monseuil-Sur-Mer before nightfall, the only time to go is now."  
  
"I know that, Madame. It's just ... I've never been separated from her before. Not ever. It's very hard."  
  
"You'll see her again in no time," Madame reassured.  
  
"Yes..."  
  
But deep down inside, Fantine didn't know what the future held. Whether or not she found a job would determine how long she would be away from Cosette.  
  
"Mama?"  
  
"Yes, sweetheart?"  
  
"Will you always love me?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"And never ever forget me?"  
  
"Never, and I'll be back before you know I'm gone."  
  
"Goodbye, Mama."  
  
"Goodbye, Cosette."  
  
She squeezed her daughter tightly and kissed her forehead.  
  
"Be good. Be brave."  
  
She walked down the road, aching to look back, but knowing that she would never be able to leave if she did. She heard Madame call to her daughters to play with Cosette. She wiped the tears away and grabbed her locket.  
  
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"I don't understand, Monsieur le Mare."  
  
"What isn't there to understand? I'm creating job opportunities."  
  
"I'm afraid that we don't have the budget to hire any more workers at this time, Monsieur."  
  
"Then write up a new budget."  
  
"Monsieur, it simply isn't done like that."  
  
"Then I shall pay new workers out of my own pocket."  
  
"Monsieur le Mare! Have you lost your mind?"  
  
"I make more than twice what these poor workers do, and for what? Sitting in my office all day while they sweat blood?"  
  
"Monsieur, besides the fact that you are an elected official, you are entitled to your leisure. You built this business with your own two hands."  
  
"And I would get down beside each and every worker if I could!"  
  
"Among those ruffians? Those dirty, vile, back-stabbing..."  
  
Valjean bolted from his seat. "What makes you any better than they are? What are you implying? It has nothing to do with profession! A person could be well off and content, but he could be the blackest, most cold-hearted man ever. Is that correct?" he asked, sneering at the man he called his friend and assistant.  
  
"Monsieur, it is not respectable to take a place beside one's workers."  
  
"Respect? I have their respect! If you recall, I came here with nothing, did I not? Look at me now. Honestly, do you expect me to believe that you didn't think of me when I first arrived here the same way you think of my workers today?"  
  
"Monsieur..."  
  
"As your mayor and employer, I charge you to give me an honest answer."  
  
"I did, Monsieur," he said after a pause.  
  
Valjean sat back down as another worker appeared at the door.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"A young lady is inquiring about a job, Monsieur le Mare. Shall I turn her away, or will you see her?"  
  
"Monsieur will turn her away."  
  
"No, I will see her, thank you." The worker left the room, rather confused.  
  
"Well?" Valjean asked.  
  
"Monsieur, we cannot hire any more workers at this time."  
  
"We can, and we will."  
  
The man sighed. "Very well, Monsieur. Very well." 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
Fantine sat patiently, waiting to be shown into either the office of the factory owner or the door. A man burst out of the office and glared at her as he made his way out of the building.  
  
"Mademoiselle?" asked the woman she had spoken with before.  
  
Fantine stood up and took a deep breath. "Will he see me, Madame?"  
  
"He will. He asked to see you right away."  
  
"Thank you so much, Madame," she said with a smile as she turned towards the office. She knocked on the door a few times and waited.  
  
"Come in," a voice from inside called.  
  
She opened the door and looked around the room. There was nothing expensive or priceless, merely four walls, a window, and a desk with neat stacks of papers, a few quills, and an ink well. Behind the desk stood a man about middle age, dressed presentably.  
  
"Good morning, Mademoiselle. My name is Monsieur Madeline, or Monsieur le Mare, if you so prefer. And you are?"  
  
"My name is Fantine." She felt like an idiot standing there. Not only was she speaking to the owner of the factory, but the mayor as well! Two titles she had been offered to call him, and she hadn't a last name to give him to address her by. Still, he didn't seem like a man who would pry or ask questions about it.  
  
She could have used Felix's last name and no one would have known, unless perhaps Felix came back. Oh, he wouldn't, but fate was tricky that way. Fate always had a way of coming around at the most inopportune times. Still, that point asides, every time someone would address her as 'Mademoiselle Thomolyes,' she would cringe, or even worse, cry.  
  
Likewise, she didn't want to inform her potential employer that she was an orphan. Businessmen didn't take kindly to hiring people who couldn't say where they had come from or what they had done in their lives. It placed a black mark on business as well as the employer. She didn't want a reputation, nor did she want to give anyone else one.  
  
"Well, Mademoiselle, I understand you're in search of a job. Why don't you take a seat?"  
  
"Thank you. Yes, Monsieur, I am looking for work."  
  
"Yes, we'll get to that in a moment. First, tell me about yourself."  
  
She froze. "What about?"  
  
"Why don't we start with where you come from?"  
  
"I really don't come from much of anyplace. I go where I can find work. I never really stay in one place for long."  
  
"In other words, you do what you can to get by?"  
  
"...Yes." It felt as if he could read her mind. And if he could, he surely wouldn't hire a woman like her. "But please don't think ill of me, Monsieur. I will take this job to heart. I do need this job."  
  
"I understand that times are hard, but don't worry. I fully intend to give you a job. But if I am to hire you, I will need to know a little bit about you."  
  
She breathed a sigh of relief. She was going to get hired. She would be able to send money to Cosette. This wouldn't be as bad as she had imagined it to be.  
  
"Oh, thank you, Monsieur. Of course. Ask me anything."  
  
"Your parentage?"  
  
He had practically given her the job, hadn't he? Surely not having parents wouldn't prevent her from working in the factory.  
  
"I couldn't say. I was orphaned at a very young age."  
  
"As was I. It's a terrible tragedy to lose one's parents. My sister and I had problems getting by. Many problems..." He began to trail off, as if lost in the past. He suddenly jerked back and offered a smile. "Siblings?"  
  
"None."  
  
"Are you ... engaged? Or married?"  
  
"...No."  
  
"You aren't a whore are you?" he asked with a chuckle.  
  
"No, Monsieur."  
  
"Good, very good. Do you have any questions for me?"  
  
It was over. She was employed now.  
  
"When do I start?"  
  
"Report to Madame first thing on Monday morning. She'll have your assignment ready then. And seeing that you're new to Monseuil-Sur-Mer , I'll give you the name of a very good inn and they'll be happy to take care of you until you can get back on your feet."  
  
"Monsieur, you are too kind."  
  
"Everyone needs help sometimes. Never be too proud to ask for it."  
  
"I'll remember that, Monsieur. Thank you so much."  
  
He rose to shake her hand. His grip was firm and strong. His hands were rough and cracked, as many hands were after years of hard labor outdoors.  
  
"Madame will show you out and direct you to the inn. Good day."  
  
She walked out of the office and listened to Madame's directions. She was well on her way to a better life, not only for her, but for Cosette as well.  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"She seemed quite respectable."  
  
"Well they all do at first, Monsieur le Mare."  
  
"Did she say anything to you that may have suggested otherwise, Madame?"  
  
"Well, no, Monsieur, I barely spoke with her."  
  
"Then why do you question my judgment?"  
  
"Something about her just doesn't sit right with me."  
  
"Are you telling me that you're in cahoots with that idiot assistant of mine, Martin?"  
  
"Of course not, Monsieur. Martin takes things one step too far. I'm merely saying that I've seen many women come and go through these factory doors for many reasons, and that girl will too."  
  
"I don't agree with you, but I won't ask you to prove me wrong. All I ask you to do, Madame Pascal, is to find her a place in the factory where she can fit in easily and work efficiently."  
  
"Yes, Monsieur."  
  
"You're dismissed."  
  
He watched Madame Pascal leave the room. He picked up his quill to pen a letter, but he found himself distracted. Something about that woman, Fantine, mesmerized him. She wasn't beautiful, she just wasn't unpleasant to look at. She seemed sincere, kind, and able-bodied.  
  
'This is insane,' he told himself. 'She's a worker now. Rules have been put in place. No workers shall interact with workers of the opposite gender because it might ruin them. The last thing I want to do is tarnish an innocent girl's reputation.'  
  
He put his thoughts aside long enough to write his letter. He handed it to Madame on the way out, grabbing his hat and coat. He walked around town, saying 'Hello' to nearly everyone. Since he had arrived here some time ago, everyone had taken kindly to him. He had enjoyed starting over and making a good name for himself.  
  
As he reached his home, he remembered that a new police inspector would be arriving within the next few weeks. Memories of Toulon flooded back and he put his hands to his face. All those years in prison were so perpendicular to the life he was now living. He would have to make do with what he had now by living in the moment.  
  
------------------------------  
  
A/N - Thanks to the first 3 reviewers!  
  
AmZ - I love having Valjean like that! It's comical and yet so annoying! Kind of like in the 1998 movie.  
  
LesMizLooney - Yes, it is, isn't it? I will stray from the movie and the musical for your entertainment. You make it sound as if my story were punishment. LOL  
  
nebulia - Yay! Thankies! 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
Fantine walked a few blocks to where the mayor had told her to go. She walked inside the inn where men were having drinks and couples were having supper. A thin man with a mustache approached her as she walked through the door.  
  
"Good evening, Mademoiselle. How can I help you?"  
  
"Yes, uh, Monsieur Madeline told me to come and inquire about a room."  
  
"Oh?" he asked, somewhat suspiciously. "What about one?"  
  
She was at a loss for words. What did he expect her to say? "Well, Monsieur Madeline just gave me a job at his factory, and no, I'm not from around here, and so I need a place to stay. I promise I'll be able to pay once my first check is issued."  
  
"I will take your word on that, Mademoiselle. I hope you do not prove to be one who breaks her promises. It would not only disgrace you, but those who housed you and employed you. As it is, Monsieur le Mare is very generous to have suggested my inn for you to come to. Have you eaten?"  
  
She sighed, relieved. "No, monsieur."  
  
"You look famished. I'll get you some wine and stew, and when you are finished, I will show you to your room."  
  
Everything seemed so perfect, so surreal, that it had to be a dream. On her first interview, she had gotten the job. The first inn she came to, she was given a room. Everyone seemed so kind and understanding. She could scarcely believe it and had to pinch herself to remind herself what was happening was real.  
  
After a few years of bread, water, and occasionally fish, the stew and wine seemed like a fine banquet to her. She struck up a conversation with a visiting couple at the next table.  
  
"We're here to visit my mother and father," the woman told her.  
  
"Oh, how nice." Fantine wished she had a mother, any family member, to visit. Life got very lonely for her at times. "What is the occasion?"  
  
"We're here to let them know that Camille is with child."  
  
"Anton, don't tell all of France before my parents!"  
  
"Darling, I'm just very excited." He turned to Fantine. "We're going to be parents, after all this time! It's just so grand!" He kissed his wife on the forehead.  
  
Fantine suddenly remembered Cosette and felt a sharp pain go through her. She remembered how upset Felix had gotten when she had told him she was pregnant. He left her and went back to his family. She was alone, carrying a bastard child. No one had helped her, she was completely alone.  
  
"Congratulations," was all she could say. After a moment, she silently got up, found the innkeeper, and asked to be shown to her room. He walked her upstairs to Room 7, and showed her inside.  
  
"Welcome home, Mademoiselle." He smiled and closed the door as he left.  
  
Fantine looked around her new home. It wasn't much. The room was small but livable. There was a bed, a dresser, a nightstand, a basin, a lamp, and a window overlooking the main street. She looked out the window and saw none other than Monsieur Madeline walk into the tavern below where she had just dined.  
  
She wanted to see him, for he was the one person who she felt understood her. He had practically read her mind when she was being interviewed. She crept over to the door, opened it, and creped over to the stairs. She saw him talking with the innkeeper. Suddenly, he looked up to where she was standing. Fantine practically ran back to her room.  
  
Once she was back inside, she locked the door, changed into her nightclothes, and kneeled beside her bed to pray.  
  
'Lord, I thank you for the blessings you have given me today. Please watch over me, and especially watch over my darling Cosette. Let her know that I love her. Amen.'  
  
She climbed into bed and slowly drifted off into sleep.  
  
-----------------------------------------------------  
  
Valjean watched her go back to her room as he spoke with the innkeeper.  
  
"What's her story?" asked the innkeeper.  
  
"She must be down on her luck. She didn't say a word to me."  
  
"She seems like a sweet girl."  
  
"She needs help, Michael. I could tell from the look in her eyes. Something tells me that if she hadn't happened upon this town, she would have been sleeping on the side of some road wondering where her next meal would be coming from."  
  
"What do you suggest?"  
  
"Don't single her out. Here's some money in advance for her room and board. I don't want her to have to worry about anything."  
  
"Should I tell her?"  
  
"No, I'd rather have her pleasantly surprised. I'm sure today has been very overwhelming. In a good way, of course."  
  
"Yes, well, goodnight, Monsieur le Mare, and thank you."  
  
Valjean tipped his hat, and continued his walk through town. The streets seemed so quiet and peaceful at night, it almost calmed him. He avoided the downtown area where he knew the whores would be at this time. He didn't believe in prostitution, but he didn't feel like sending anyone to jail. Jail was a horrible place to be, especially when you were poor, cold, hungry, destitute, and degraded.  
  
He reached his home, removed his coat and hat, tended to the fire, and readied himself for bed. He felt a new sense of pride, happiness in bringing joy to another's life. He began to wonder how for so long he could have been bitter with his years in jail when he belonged there for being selfish and self absorbed. This new experience of helping other people was so selfless that it made him smile.  
  
As he fell asleep, he wondered what other good he could do for his factory ... the town ... that woman. 


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 

_A/N - Hello everyone. I'm sorry I kind of abandoned this and all my writing in general. It's been a busy and emotional couple of months. But I intend to finish this and my Shakespeare story. Now, onto it._

Fantine awoke the following Monday to the distant sound of a rooster and the smell of cooking porridge. She dressed hurriedly and tended to her long, flowing hair before heading downstairs. To her surprise, the room was nearly full of people, as it had been the night of her arrival.

That weekend, she decided to explore the town and observe its inhabitants. She spent a good deal of time sitting in the park observing the local villagers and how they interacted with one another. She watched small children run around with their dogs or playthings. Watching their carefree games made her think of her own Cosette. She imagined her daughter running after the Thenardier children and laughing in her innocent joy.

She watched multiple couples courting one another, some with nosy chaperones trailing closely behind. She frowned as she wondered why she had been so unlucky to have been born an orphan without a single person to attend to her or even to protect her. Perhaps if she had had such a guardian, she could have avoided the whole affair she had gotten herself into. The fact remained, however, that she was not born into nor entitled to that privilege as so many other young women were.

She greeted the innkeeper, who handed her a bowl and offered her a smile. She smiled back, and tried to find a seat. When she did, she scarfed down her meal and brought the bowl back to him.

"Most people aren't that eager to arrive at work so early," he commented, throwing a glance around the room.

She grinned at him, throwing her coat over her shoulders. "Well, I am not most people."

They bid one another goodbye, and she started off down the road to the factory. The sun had just risen overhead, and a stream of warm light shone down on the village. The crunch of gravel echoed through the air as everyone hurried down the street to his or her respective places of employment. Fantine reached the factory after some time and passed by a line of workers assembled to receive their instructions for the day. She averted her eyes as some of the men looked her over as she walked by. She found Madame Pascal who took Fantine to her office on the second floor of the factory. Fantine took a seat and looked around the room until Madame's voice caught her attention.

"Firstly, Mademoiselle, I would like to start by telling you how lucky you are to be employed in our factory."

"Yes, Madame," she nodded obediently.

"Monsieur le Mare was actually considering laying off a decent amount of workers and docking many other's wages until he was convinced to do otherwise." Fantine looked at the woman in disbelief for a second. Was she talking about the same man who had been so kind and hospitable to her the other day? Surely not. "Now, then. You will be working in the women's section of the factory, naturally, where the women cut and mold clay to make bricks, pottery, and so forth." She paused for a minute, looking Fantine over. "We cannot have our factory become reputable for having low-life and immoral workers employed here. I'm sure Monsieur Madeline spoke to you about such things already, but just to reinforce the fact, we have rules. Such rules include no fraternizing with the men, no drinking on the property or coming to work with the affects of drinking, and no speaking of crude or inappropriate matters. You must also inform the staff in the event of illness, marriage, or pregnancy. If a pregnancy is out of wedlock, the result will be immediate dismissal." She leaned closer to Fantine. "We do not tolerate such behavior, and we are not fond of having secrets kept from us."

Fantine remained as calm as was humanly possible in such a situation. The woman couldn't be onto her, could she? No, of course not. It was simply a standard speech given to all the new girls in order to frighten them out of their wits, and it was working, for Fantine grew more nervous every time a new word escaped Madame's lips. She nodded her head and smiled slightly. "I understand, Madame."

Madame leaned back and surveyed her one last time. "Good. As for the matter of your salary, you will be paid weekly, on Saturdays. Five francs a week is the standard pay." She stood from her chair. "Now, if you will follow me, we will set up a workstation for you downstairs."

Fantine breathed a sigh of relief and followed the woman all the way downstairs. Madame Pascal seated her between two girls who were already well into their work. Madame gave her some materials and promptly went back towards her office. Fantine opened her mouth to ask what she was supposed to do, but Madame was out of earshot before she could get to it.

Fantine looked between the two girls. One was lean with blond hair tied back with a scarf. The other looked somewhat older; her tired dark hair and features were either a sign of age or overwork. Fantine looked down at her station and then noticed the blond smiling at her.

"You must be new."

"How could you tell?"

"Obviously, you have no clue what to do." She wiped her hand with a cloth and offered it to Fantine. "I'm Emilija."

Fantine took it, smiling. "Fantine." She paused, looking down again. "I don't suppose you could..."

"Of course!" Emilija motioned for Fantine to come sit on the bench at her station, which she did. She handed Fantine a handful of clay. "We make bricks," she explained. "One of the less exciting jobs, but also one of the easiest. You need to mold the clay to form a good sized brick, like this," she said, producing one she had finished. "When the three of us have enough bricks, we load them into the kiln over there." She pointed to a large stove off to the side. "You also need to be careful there are no cracks or air bubbles in the clay before you heat them. Otherwise the bricks will fall apart and be a waste of clay."

Fantine nodded and looked to the other woman, who was deeply engrossed in her work. "And she?" she whispered.

"Her name's Charlene..."

"I can hear everything you're saying," Charlene murmured. "Just because I don't respond doesn't mean I'm deaf, you know."

"I was only telling her your name," Emilija responded sheepishly.

Charlene looked up and threw a glance at Fantine. "Don't expect me to be great friends with you, girl. I work for one reason, and that's to earn money. I don't need to socialize with girls half my age."

Fantine's eyebrows were knotted with pain and confusion for a moment, but she shrugged it off. "I understand. I won't trouble you a bit." She took to the clay and started to mold it as Emilija had instructed her.

A short time later, Charlene pulled a batch out of the kiln. She let out an aggravated grunt, making Emilija look up from her place.

"What is it?"

"A whole bunch of these are ruined. Completely unusable." She looked over at Fantine, who averted her eyes. Emilija looked over at Fantine.

"It's an honest mistake..."

"Well, you and I have never made mistakes, so it must be her fault!"

"Are you saying you never made one bad brick in your whole life?"

Charlene exhaled heavily. "You teach her to do better than that. I will not be penalized for your mistakes," she spat at Fantine.

At the end of the day, Fantine practically stormed out of the factory and back to the inn. She sat down and the innkeeper brought her a mug.

"I told you that not many were eager to go to work."

"I know that now," she said disinterestedly, taking a long sip from the cup.

"Let me get your supper," he said, getting up from the table. She ran her finger over the mug as someone took a seat at the table. She looked up and saw Monsieur Madeline sitting across from her. She straightened up.

"Monsieur le Maire..."

"I'm sorry. I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

"No, no of course not. Can I help you with anything, Monsieur?" The innkeeper came back with Fantine's dinner.

"Ah, I'd love some of your soup, Michael. That is, if Mademoiselle Fantine doesn't mind my company."

Michael smiled. "Of course, Monsieur le Maire, I'll be right back." He was gone a moment before returning with a bowl for the mayor. He left, and Fantine offered him a smile.

"So, tell me, what did you think of the factory?"

"Oh, well, I thought it was very nice, Monsieur..."

"And the other women?"

She paused, biting her lip. "Well, I can't say that all of them are ... nice."

"Well, some people aren't. I wouldn't let them get you down. I'm sure you'll fit in nicely."

"It isn't a matter of fitting in, Monsieur. I can work without having to speak or interact with anyone. But I can't work if I can't do the job properly."

"Well," he said, setting his spoon down, "every job has acquired skills one must learn, and skills that one already has that they need to employ into that job. Mademoiselle, you have the heart and the dedication, but you cannot be the world's greater brick maker after only one afternoon. Rome was not built in a day, you know."

She nodded her head. "Thank you, Monsieur. I just don't want to get fired over something trivial."

"I'll have you know that all finalizations on employee terminations must go through me. Never fear. I always make sure I know the whole story before dismissing a worker."

She smiled. "That's good to know, Monsieur."

They ate the rest of their meal in silence, and he excused himself to take care of further business. After he left, she sat contemplating the table top. Why was he being so kind to her? Surely he was on his way now to enjoy another bowl of soup with some other employee. Wasn't he? She had never had a man pay so much attention to her, except for Felix. She suddenly shuddered at the thought. She never wanted to trust a man like Felix ever again, nor did she want to slip into any man's trap.

She rubbed her eyes exhaustedly and retired to her room. She sat at the window for a moment and watched the streetlights get lit. She laid down and slowly closed her eyes, letting all of her bad experiences disappear just for that moment.


End file.
